Aviators and those readers intrigued by the airships of the 1920s and ’30s will thoroughly enjoy S.C. Gwynne’s newest tome, “His Majesty’s Airship: The Life and Tragic Death of the World’s Largest Flying Machine” (Scribner, 320 pgs., $32).
Few people know that the demise of the British dirigible R101 in a 1930 fireball near Beauvais, France, killed more people than the Hindenburg disaster — “Oh, the humanity!” — seven years later.
Gwynne has crafted “a Promethean tale of unlimited ambitions and technical limitations, airy dreams and explosive endings,” according to Dominic Green’s review of the book in The Wall Street Journal.
Likewise, John Lancaster in The New York Times says, “Gwynne makes the most of R101’s short, doomed flight. … That the ending is no surprise takes nothing from the power of his story.”
The tale of the loss of the R101 airship has been historically forgotten, and if remembered, overshadowed by the Zeppelin’s crash in Lakehurst, New Jersey, witnessed via spectacular photography and eyewitness accounts.
However, this long-lost event has been put into perspective by Gwynne as he paints a picture of the world of airships — mostly of disasters — created by men who wanted their ideas and concepts to rule the air world: airships instead of airplanes.
In Great Britain, it was the dream of Lord Christopher Thomson, who conceived the idea that dirigibles easily could link the worldwide British empire, including India, with the “mother country.” It was his Imperial Airship Scheme that led to the construction, flight and ultimate death of R101, and it was that relentless story that Gwynne’s eye for detail catches the reader’s early attention and carries them through to the natural ending.
This book has captured various English Best Books of 2023 honors and now should find American attention because of Gwynne’s grand storytelling ability. This is a real aerial adventure!
Another Lowcountry mystery
“December Rain” (Blue Fortune Enterprises, 312 pgs., $19.99) by Tim Holland, of Williamsburg, is the fourth in his “Sidney Lake Lowcountry” mystery series.
Again, as we have related previously, this book and the series are worthy of national recognition not only because of the story’s locale, but also because Holland is a grand storyteller and captures the sensibilities of South Carolina Lowcountry life.
Once again, retired Morgan College professor and widower Sidney Lake puts his research together with data obtained by Tillie James, his Gullah former housekeeper and now housekeeping entrepreneur. They help solve the mystery that baffles the local police.
It has the flavor of a Nero Wolfe story. Lake stays put at home like Nero, while Tillie and retired policeman Ray Morton become his leg “persons,” like multiple Archie Goodwins for Wolfe.
In the middle of it all is an 18th century story of pirate “gold,” and lost rare books that figure in the 21st century story told through events 200 years ago. This Holland tale is good!
What is missing is the interplay and crafty banter between current Morgan College English professor and Lake friend, who appeared in the earlier books. Can’t remember her name, but miss the connection and possible “love interest” with Lake.
Again, my personal like and appeal of the Lowcountry and the Gullah people add to my biased enjoyment of this book and the “Sidney Lake” mystery series. Tim Holland, keep these stories coming!
An important early antebellum account
Edward L. Ayers, University of Richmond president emeritus and formidable historian, offers an authoritative account of the early decades of the 19th century in “American Visions: The United States, 1800-1860” (W. W. Norton & Company, 368 pgs., $29.99).
Known as a visionary historian, Ayers uses his interpretive skills of past events to present future possibilities and promises.
During the events leading up to the Civil War, the country tripled in size and its population exploded with immigrants — hundreds of thousands from Ireland. Ayers clearly points out that “more people didn’t mean more freedoms,” as Wall Street Journal reviewer Christoph Irmscher explained.
In addition to the increased numbers of slaves, Native Americans were uprooted and forcibly removed westward. The fabric of the nation, Ayers notes, continued to fray as Southern racial attitudes “became entrenched” and Northerners believed more in their own “moral superiority.”
Ayers looked at the visions of abolitionist Frederick Douglass, journalist and editor Margaret Fuller and Native American activist William Apess as well as author Herman Melville and poet Henry David Thoreau. Politics and art and nature and technology were all wrapped up in the American Vision that was development.
This is a scholarly, not popular history. Nevertheless, Ayers’ book is an important addition to the introspective understanding of antebellum America.
Have a comment or suggestion for Kale? Contact him at Kaleonbooks95@gmail.com.
